Choice
by Chima
Summary: Naruto's thoughts during his fight with Sasuke at the Valley of the End.
1. Choice

I saw you, how perfect you were, how everyone loved you...I wanted to be you. I wanted to be everything you were, but you didn't care. You didn't care about anything, about anyone. You didn't want their attention, their care, their love. You didn't want to hear me. I wanted to tell you, but I was too proud, too scared. So I never told you.

If I had told you back then, when we were children, how important you were to me...would it have changed how things turned out? If you'd known you were my reason for becoming better, my reason for living when no one wanted me to, would it have made a difference? If I'd spoken to you then, could we have been friends? Maybe you would've realized that there was more to life than avenging your clan, more to life than killing your brother.

If you'd known that, would you have stayed?

I can't say, because I never told you. Instead, we became rivals, enemies, and were forced to fight side by side despite it. You hated me because I 'slowed you down' I hated you because you were 'always better'. Somehow, somewhere along the line, we went from enemies to...something else. Comrades. Instead of fighting against each other, we fought alongside each other. After a while it no longer hurt to fight beside you; it became a contest, a way to become better.

Then you told me I was your best friend.

It didn't matter that everyone in Konoha loved you, it didn't matter that you only considered me 'friend' because I was a challenge, a worthy opponent. It didn't matter that I cared about you more than I should; you couldn't see it anyways.

We're both alone; you lost everyone and I never had anyone. Does it matter so much the differences when we're so alike?

Even without anyone else, we've still got each other. Does it matter why I would fight for you? I would; isn't that really all that matters?

'I can see', isn't it ironic that with those eyes of yours, you still couldn't see how much you meant to me? Even with those eyes, you still wouldn't see me for what I am, see what I'd do for you. You still couldn't see why I would keep fighting after you could kill me without an inkling of effort.

Or maybe you could.

Maybe you saw it, and hated it, and didn't want it to exist. So you ignored everything, and pretended I didn't feel how I did.

And when I became your best friend...I became a stepping-stone. I became a choice. Would you accept the new life you had open; as a person instead of a weapon? Or would you kill me, use me to get the power you needed to do what you'd sworn to do when you were still too young to know what it meant?

Maybe if I'd told you sooner, said it out loud so you couldn't pretend it wasn't there, then things would've changed. Maybe you wouldn't have to make that horrible choice; between your promise and your hope.


	2. Choice: The Other Side

You hurt me. You hurt me with your smile and your care, with your stupid jokes and flirting, with your pride and your power. You were more than I wanted in anyone, more than I'd ever asked for and ever thought could exist in one place. I knew the disappointment of my parents and the apathy of my brother, I knew the pity of the village, I knew the swooning of the girls and the jealousy of the boys. What was I to do with you, who fit in none of the molds?

Now you're strong, so strong, strong enough to hit me, but that's not why it hurts. It hurts because you give a damn enough to hit me when I'm doing what you think I shouldn't. That you care enough to yell at me. That you'd break my arms and legs to keep me from leaving.

When did this happen? I remember a scared little boy, alone and unwanted for reasons I couldn't understand. I remember the class clown, the idiot, the weakling who couldn't even do the simplest of techniques. And now I see you screaming at me not to leave, throwing your power at me as if it's something tangible, running across water toward me. If not for my eyes, I'd be dead.

If not for you, I wouldn't have my eyes.

And now I can't decide if I'm right or not, if I made the right choice in leaving - I was so sure, how did you change that? Is there really anything left for me in the village apart from simpering, pitying people who don't understand? Is there anything there left for me to cherish? My home is gone, my family murdered, I left any friends I might have had behind in my quest for revenge.

What would it have been like...to have a friend. To have someone I could depend on, who I could spar with without having to worry about accidentally breaking, who would tell me when I was wrong, who would stay up late with me when the memories got to be too much, who would follow me into hell just to save me?

...Huh.

And now I stand over you, you're broken and defeated, and I don't know what to do. Do I remember my family, my promise, my need for the power that can finally release me from what I said so many years ago? Or do I remember you, and that girl, and our teacher? Do I remember the ghosts that I lived for, or the flesh and blood that taught me to live?


End file.
